


The Monster at the End of this Book

by LotusFlair



Series: A Series of Archival Speculations [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Books are Evil, Books are Magic, Jurgen Leitner's Library, Not Canon Compliant, Skin Book, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-07 20:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20823062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LotusFlair/pseuds/LotusFlair
Summary: When it's all over, Martin finds what's left of Jon.Partially a songfic based on The Arts and Sciences "The Monster at the End of this Book" from the album Hopeful Monsters.





	The Monster at the End of this Book

_Did you know_  
_ I'm terrified to write this all down_  
_ Like somehow I'll just keep it around_  
_ A metaphor to leave myself out of_  
_ Did you know_  
_ I've strung the ropes as tight as they'll go_  
_ Braced the floors just to keep it below_  
_ To dance myself through one more dumb show_

It had taken almost a year to find them. The Hunters had fled as soon as they'd gotten what they wanted - as soon as they'd struck the final blow. Waiting had been their only option with the literal end of the world on their doorstep. When it was finished, when the world was at relative peace, Martin knew his work wasn't done. He gathered whatever resources he had left, called in what favors he could, and went searching for what remained of the Archivist.

  
  
_But every page I have found_  
_ Leaves one more hasty brick wall on the ground_  
_ I lay curled up from the sound_  
_ I'm afraid of what's at the end of the book_

It was Daisy's final act as a Hunter. Basira had begged her not to go, but Daisy owed Jon and Martin had, against his better judgement, exploited the favor she owed him for bringing her back from the Buried. They found Trevor and Julia in Turkey holed up in the Cathedral of Mren. Martin knew he was ill-equipped to handle them, but Daisy didn't care. She wanted the company more than anything. When confronted with the old man and his junior partner, she knew when she entered the ruins she wasn't coming out. She made Martin wait outside. He wasn't allowed to enter and he certainly wasn't allowed to use the Lonely.

And Martin waited. An hour after she went in, Daisy staggered towards him. Blood covered her stomach, but she pushed forward. Tucked under her arm was her most precious cargo and when she placed it in Martin's hands she smiled before collapsing into the dirt.

"Daisy..." Martin began.

"I owed him," she said through gritted teeth. "Just...tell Jon...tell him...he did good."

Martin nodded helplessly. She died in his arms, her final hunt completed.

When Basira met him at the airport in London he still hadn't stopped crying.

  
  
_Did you know_  
_ My weaker faith can't really compete_  
_ With my own skill for self deceit_  
_ The only things that dent are concrete_  
_ You wouldn't know_  
_ That every musty corner was mine_  
_ That what I fear I simply imply_  
_ Every song was true, every word was a lie_

Martin placed the book on his desk. He was glad to be doing this in his flat rather than anywhere near the crater that was the Magnus Institute. He set his cup of tea and the tape recorder to the side. There was no need for the recorder, but he thought Jon might find some comfort in its presence. He stared at the monstrosity made of human skin. It disgusted him on every human level imaginable and yet it was the last connection he had to Jon. There were so many lives bound within its pages, so many souls in need of rest. And yet he only truly cared about the last page and the book's most recent tenant.

"Right, Martin, go on," he breathed to himself. "Just...read the page."

Touching the book made his skin crawl on principle. His whole body was repulsed, like it knew what horrors had created such an unnatural artifact. He pushed past the urge to vomit and quickly opened it to the last page. There was dried blood in the corner, a fingerprint of whoever Julia and Trevor had paid to have Jon bound. Maybe Basira would be able to tell him who it was. Maybe he'd have to find that person. But that was a mission for another day.

Now, all he had to do was read.

  
  
_They had it right when I was five_  
_ And I've got no call to be surprised_  
_ By everything I despise_  
_ But I'm afraid_  
_ I'm afraid_  
_ I'm afraid that what's at the end of the book_  
_ Is just me_

He felt the static building as he continued to speak the words aloud. The push and pull of forces beyond his understanding threatened to stop the task completely, but again he pushed forward. From across the desk a shape began to form. As he kept reading, the shape became more and more familiar and when the final words escaped his lips he nearly cried out at the man sitting opposite him. He wasn't sure what version of Jon he'd see. Would it be the one who stared with vacant eyes as the Watcher's Crown nearly landed on his brow? Would it be the hungry, weakened Archivist brooding away the hours? Would it be the frantic paranoid man that stalked and whispered while he panicked about his own possible demise?

It was none of them. Sitting across from Martin was the Jon Sims he'd first met all those years ago: trimmed hair with just a little product, a slightly wrinkled button up shirt, neatly pressed slacks, a tie that would eventually unravel and be discarded after lunch. This Jon looked healthy, well groomed, and absolutely shocked.

"Martin?!" Jon exclaimed. His voice was distorted around the edges, but there was no mistaking his unique timbre. He couldn't help it, he burst into tears.

"Hi, Jon," he said through blurry eyes. "It's good to see you."

"I...Julia and Trevor, what...?"

"Daisy," Martin said. "She took care of them. She made sure I could bring you home."

Jon's face fell at the news. "I'm - I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. She wanted to. She said to tell you that...you did good."

He wasn't certain if ghosts could cry, but there was something in the way Jon nodded and looked away for a moment that made him consider the possibility. They sat in silence for a minute as they both composed themselves. Martin felt on the verge of a panic attack. Here he was with the ability to talk to the man he loved after so long apart and there was nothing he could think to say other than:

"I'm sorry!"

Jon looked at him in surprise. "For what?"

"It's been over a year, Jon. I promised I'd find you and...I'm sorry it took so long. I'm sorry you were with _them_ for so long. Did they...I don't know how this works. Did they do anything to you after you were bound?"

"Just the occasional chat to show how much power they had over me," he said. "I don't...feel like I'm really here, but I also know that I am. It's like I'm being pulled in all directions at once, but there's never any leniency. Just ropes pulling tighter and tighter."

"Does it hurt?"

Jon nodded. "Yes. Which is probably why they liked bringing me out. Cats playing with their food."

"I have the lighter," Martin said as he placed the spiderweb lighter on the desk. "I knew this would be torture for you."

"Yes. Thank you. But...can we at least talk for a while? I missed you."

"I missed you too."

They talked for hours - about trivial matters and topics they'd never thought to talk about when they'd worked together. There was so much to learn about each other and now, ironically, they had the time to find a word for what had always been unspoken. It turned out to be an old fashioned love story complete with a bittersweet ending.

Three days later, Martin burned the book.

A week after that and he burned Jon's page.

A month after that and the world kept going.


End file.
